


Warm Blooded Women

by MistCover



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, F/F, Pre Relationship, Rainbow Drinkers, basically just blood drinking, blooddrinking, hungry rainbow drinkers, im dead serious, thats all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistCover/pseuds/MistCover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hungry Rainbow Drinkers make poor conversationalists. A certain Seer aims to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Blooded Women

            The halls of the meteor are long, and dark. Your own glow casts harsh light on the metal walls of what was once a perfectly functional ectobiology laboratory. Footsteps echo far too loud when you walk. The _whoosh-whoosh_ of your blood pusher is far too prominent in your ears. You curl a fist, slam it against a wall.

            Your name is Kanaya Maryam and you are very, very hungry.

            Which is fine. You can definitely handle hungry, you have for the few months you’ve found yourself undead. Oh, of course, the first couple hours were nothing but a ravenous haze, draining corpses and trying not to kill your still living friends (save one, but he wasn’t much of a friend anyways.) The taste of purple lingers in your mind, but adjectives are few and far between. You close your eyes and concentrate on the memory, trying to dig up your ability to explain. That’s what you are, right? A helper. An explainer.

            _Refreshing_. That’s the word you’re looking for. Your mouth grows drier still and you lean your forehead against the cool metal slab your fist is still pressed into.

            You can handle this.

            Your pesterchum chimes in your sylladex and you jump, growling at the intrusion. It’s Rose, her little sun dancing merrily on your screen. You yank your laptop out, throwing the key to the wall, and set your own status to “offline”. Maybe that will deter her.

            You can handle this.

            You continue to pace, rolling your head from side to side and trying to establish a game plan of some sort. Go find Karkat? He’s shy about feeding you but when he sees you he may acquiesce. Wait for a dreambubble? Ghost blood isn’t nearly as filling but they’re already dead, and walking from alternate timeline to alternate timeline is just a matter of a few steps. Speaking of, your own footsetps are echoing oddly, a staccato clip that sounds like there are two of you in this one hallway, a pair of rainbow drinkers. You turn around, slamming into something and you are assaulted by its smell, rich and coppery and thick and your knees nearly buckle right there.

            You can’t handle this.

            “I was hoping to find you, actually, I had an idea that I wanted to share and-” Rose is looking at you, your own glow flickering in and out of focus, her pupils tiny and eyes half-squinted. “Are you alright?”

            You have to swallow before you can respond. “I’ll be fine.” She stares at you a few moments longer, pursing her lips, before bringing a hand up to touch your shoulder and you grab her wrist, holding your breath and pushing it away. “Please don’t touch me.” Rose looks wounded. Of course she is, she’s your friend and you’re just being a monster. Which is pretty much all you’re capable of being.

            “Something’s wrong, then, and don’t think I’m dull enough not to be able to see that.” Her words are soft, out of focus in your mind and you turn your head away from her. The smell of her assaults you, even with the extreme angle you’ve placed yourself at.

            “I. Will. Be. Fine. I just need to be alone for the time being.” Your head swims. The wall becomes a comfortable resting place for your body.

            “You need to eat.” Her words come like a revelation, the voice of ‘how could I be so stupid as not to know?’. “Are humans sufficient?”

            You don’t respond, closing your eyes tight and focusing on breathing swallow little puffs.

            “Kanaya, answer me.” She steps closer to you and you whine, trying to push her away.

            “I’ve never tried.” Her body grows closer. You want to scream.

            “One would imagine being this hungry would be highly painful. I’m happy to help. And I doubt feeding a rainbow drinker is just, or heroic, so I’m not too considered about permanent death.” She laughs, half heartedly.

            “No.” The word spills out of your mouth, lands on the floor between you two. She shifts beside you.

            “You’re being ridiculous. If you need to eat, you need to eat.”

            “No.”

            “Don’t be petulant.”

           “I don’t want to hurt you!” There. You’ve said it.

           There are several long moments of silence. Rose is doing something, you can hear. There’s the sound of her shuffling through her inventory. A faint ting of metal against metal. She takes a steadying breath, and you’re about to open your eyes and ask her what in the name of the Mother Grub she’s dong when she yelps.

           And you are gone. You grab her forearm, bring her bleeding wrist to your mouth and _oh_ she is _warm_ in your mouth, tongue rolling across her skin. She tastes like candy, molten sugar and copper, practically burning you alive from the inside out. Every motion you make sends another shudder down your spine, her hand curling and uncurling into gentle fists. A sigh builds, and breaks. You latch onto her more firmly, sucking at her desperately, drawing more of her into your mouth. She groans against you and you press your tongue to the wound, letting it run in rivulets down her arm before you chase them. When did you end up on the floor? It doesn’t matter. She makes noises- words, probably- and you can’t make them out. Her pulse has gone from a deafening hammer to a softer beat, slowing gently and she makes those same noises again, her voice climbing in pitch.

           Your mind clears for just a second at her voice and you snap back to yourself. She’s faint, her eyes fluttering open and shut and you curse under your breath, pulling your mouth back to press fingers to her wrist. The blood slows, stops, and you keep her held there and wait. No longer lost in a sea of red, you are aware of your position- on the floor, skirts dirtying and Rose is smeared sticky with her candy blood and your jade-tinted saliva. Her face is paler than normal, color drained from her cheeks, but the beat of her heart hasn’t stopped.

           You would kill yourself if you hurt her. Wait, where did that come from? That thought is far too flushed for your liking, and you push it away, down below your full stomach. “Rose? Are you alright?” You spill blood you hadn’t swallowed onto your lips, licking it off quickly before it gets on her dress.

           It takes a horrible moment too long for her to answer. “Mmm? Yes. I think so, at least. I’ve never lost that much blood before, at least without dying.” How much blood do humans need, anyways? Did you take too much? Will she be dead in moments? Panic, no, don’t panic, stay calm. Your blood pusher goes from a sluggish crawl to a race, gathering her up, close to you.

           “What can I do?” You ask.

           “Just take me back to my room. I just need some water, and a rest. Don’t worry,” she looks up at you, smiles at you, she is more radiant than you when she smiles stop that Maryam, “I’ll be fine.”

           You carry her to her room. You lay her on her bed. You bring her water. She drinks, greedy, spilling down her shirt. She sends you to refill her mug and when you return, her eyes are closed, sleeping soundly.

           You consider staying, winding her in your arms and against you, rubbing her shoulders and helping her drink more. It’s too close to a redpink action for you to really go through with it, and you don’t know how she would take it. What do human mates do for each other? They only have the one, after all. It’s probably best to let her sleep alone, have your husktop with you if she calls. Like a friend would. You write your thanks on paper, leave it on her nightstand.

           And you leave her be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want other rosemary+blood scenarios I am 100% open to suggestions at grimdarkthroes.tumblr.com!!!!!!!  
> (Seriously give me excuses to write these snarky broads drinking blood)  
> (The more specific you are the more likely I am to write it)


End file.
